One girl's twistedly fantastic interpretation of what the hell is really going on inside the Big Brother 17 house.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Drunk & Puking & Loving Life!

Stories. I like stories. I like to read stories. I like to hear stories. I like to tell stories. Story time bonded the cavemen, delighted Cleopatra, made Jack The Ripper all the more scary, and, I'm pretty sure, it makes this blog like the best in the world. I'm still waiting to get my "Best Blog In The World" award by the way. I'll bet it got lost in the mail or something. So yeah, stories are generally pretty great. There is, however, one person who can tell a story so vivid and so horrifying that it makes babies cry, mothers weep, and the Villegas family abandon Christianity and turn to Voodoo. Mrs. Villegas (whom I'll now call "Conchita") has replaced all of her Virgin Mary iconography with Marie Laveau paintings. I don't know if you're familiar with Marie Laveau, but she was one of the greatest Voodoo Queens who ever lived. She could shake a rattle, charm a snake, and behead a chicken like nobody's business. She also organized scandalous mixed race orgies in the parlor of her New Orleans home, but shhhh, don't tell that to Conchita. Mr. Villegas (Pepe) isn't exactly thrilled about Conchita's new passion. Their house smells like pig parts, chicken fat, and burning sulfur. Pepe lets Conchita indulge in her new hobby because deep down inside he, too, hopes that all his wife's efforts will have a successful outcome: to get that red headed harlot away from their bouncing brown eyed baby boy Brendon! Let's recap, shall we?

Let's start from where the mild drama began. It's the middle of the day and Rachel is stuffing her pimply face with something or other. Matt sits across from her and he's being nice telling her that this whole nomination hullabaloo isn't personal, it's just game. Rachel responds with her characteristic devil's glare and Matt's testicles promptly crawl up inside his body. Hyena Fuckface then rises and makes an evil prophecy. She stands tall, raises one hand to the sky, points the other directly at Matt ,and proclaims, "I damn you to a life of eternal damnation and hellfire! Just wait and see what happens when you come to Vegas. No hotel will grant you entrance! No club will serve you drinks! You will be shunned by Wayne Newton! Bette will laugh in your face! Not even Criss Angel will take your money! You mess with me, you mess with Vegasssss!!!" Then she disappeared into a cloud of red smoke leaving behind nothing but a dab of pimple cream and some strands of black and red hair.

She pops up again in her bedroom. I guess all that damnation prophesizing left her spent and emotionally exhausted because she hid under the covers and fell into her first real crying jag. At home I grabbed a Diet Peach Snapple Iced Tea, some bon bons, and kicked back to enjoy the show. Memories of Ass Licker curled up in her yellow dress in the Green Room danced like sugarplums in my head. Unfortunately for us, Rachel had the good common sense to cover her head with her comforter as she wept. Blubber blubber burble burble hiccup hiccup was all we heard. I'm not gonna lie I giggled a little and probably tinkled from the excitement. I sent out Tweets, updated my Facebook, called an ex ,and shouted from the rooftops, "Hyena Fuckface is crying!" Then I shook my moneymaker and threw some glitter in the air for good measure. Good times.

Like an unwanted rash, Bitch Boy entered the scene. He was all sweaty and manly from doing his Jazzercise and says, "What's up babe?" She replied with a hiss, "Matt said I'm making things personal *sniff sniff* He told me I'm too EMOTIONAL!!! Wahhh wahhh." Bitch Boy reached for his Wizard hat and said, "I'm gonna go bash some skulls!" OK so I might be paraphrasing a little, but you get the idea. Rachel was sad, Brendon got mad, and lives were threatened. I took my top off and crossed my fingers for a Matt/Brendon altercation. I don't know why but fights always make me want to get naked. Rent Rocky IV when you visit me and you're in for good time.

I turned on the "Fight Alert" bat signal and feedsters from all around ran to their computers. We waited with bated breath as Bitch Boy prepared to rumble. The fact that he was debating whether or not to shower first was a little annoying, but I knew that eventually he was gonna throw down. Boy was I wrong! After several attempts to open the sliding door and get medieval on Matt's ass, Brendon just bagged the whole thing and decided to lather himself up in the shower instead. So yeah, no fight. Worse still, Bitch Boy comes out of the shower and decides to canoodle with his paramour. It was gross, it made me gag, and I'm pretty sure I'll be on Lithium by the time this season is over. When they make out it's not just the sound of tongues searching that completely paralyzes my belief in mankind. No, it's the giggles and the sighs and the "Brendoooonn's". No child anywhere should ever be named "Brendon" again. Rachel has done things to that word that even I don't have the strength to go through. She elongates it, she moans it, she whines it, she does these little staccato "Brendon!" shouts. I've written the Baby Name Society and I've requested they remove that vile word from their records. I'd like it to be as popular as the name "Adolph". I'm pretty sure no one names their kid "Adolph" anymore and I'd henceforth like the name "Brendon" to be treated the same way.

After they rubbed their skins together and produced some vile odors, Rachel was feeling chipper so she decided to go apologize to Kathy. Yup. Pretty great, right? Rachel sucked it up and told Kathy she was sorry for being such a vile hose beast after the POV. Kathy accepted her apology and said that she'll be happy to talk to Rachel if they can talk with class and tact and not all the name calling and drama. Rachel agreed and all was well. Of course Kathy immediately marched outside to tell everyone what happened. She made the distinct point of announcing "But I did NOT apologize to her y'all. Let's get that one thing straight." At home I giggled and put Spam on my shopping list. I'll go ahead and send the Dragon Lady some cans for when she gets out of the house. She's got a long winter to get ready for in that tiny little cabin of hers and I'm more than happy to help out a fellow Rachel-hater in any way I can.

For the rest of the afternoon the house was pretty chill... that is, until "you know who" made an appearance - Mr. Salvatore is baaaaaack bitches! This time the Feeds went down which kind of sucked, but through my powers of telepathy, telekinesis, and good old fashioned eavesdropping I was able to surmise that Mr. Salvatore is pretty much up to no good and out to piss me off. His message, for some reason, said that Brendon has been throwing competitions. I don't know why, but it almost seemed like Mr. Salvatore was trying to get the house to vote out Brendon instead of Rachel. On all that is holy and sacred, I most vehemently object. I want that bitch out of this house, off of my feeds, and forever erased from this blog. I want her to sit for a week all alone stewing in her own misery. She'll be so bored she'll have nothing to do but eat and get drunk. By the time Brendon joins her she'll have a whole slew of new zits and cankles to boot. That's my fantasy and, so help me god, I'lk karate chop anyone who gets in the way of making it a reality.

This brings me to my most favorite part of the night. Picture it - Hyena Fuckface (sometimes known as Satan's Baby) and Bitch Boy are in the kitchen making another olive oil feast when Hyena decides to regale Bitch Boy with some fanciful tales of her life in Vegas. You know how I mentioned "story time" in my opening paragraph? Well, it was all for this bit of deliciousness. OK so Rachel is wearing some mustard yellow tie-dyed number and checking her hair every 2 seconds in the mirror when she tells Brendon about her "clients". I'm not exactly sure what it is Rachel does, but I think there might be a required waving of a lamp over genitalia to check for open sores before the "work" begins... if you catch my drift. Money might be left on the dresser and regular HIV testing is probably mandatory. Wink wink, nudge nudge.

OK so the first story Hyena shares is about dancing. As dancing is near and dear to my heart, I was actually looking forward to hearing this little tale. As Hyena tells it, she and her friends decided to get like all crazy one night and just take Vegas by storm. They were gonna do it up right and get all shit-faced and, oh my god, it was gonna be like so awesome. Rachel had the brilliant idea to get all dressed up in daisy duke's and cowboy boots and choreograph a dance routine to an Aerosmith song. The gaggle of gals would then roll their shirts up like bikini tops and hit as many bars as they could perfoming said routine. They had a limo and a boom box and prepared for like days for this little bout of awesomeness. The night of their self-imposed "gig" arrives so they hop into their limo and head to the first bar/victim. They leap out of the car in a flurry of excitement. Rachel saunters in and shouts, "Hey HEY Heeeeyyyy! Hit it Jules!" Jules is her friend who was assigned the duty of hitting the play button on the boom box. She's pretty and blonde, but she fears Rachel is gonna skin her new cat so she indulges Rachel and her crazy schemes while praying that the job she applied for in Des Moines as a file clerk comes through. Jules hits play, Rachel cackles, and the dance begins. Rachel shimmies this way and that, she kicks her booted leg here and there, she juts her hips and swings her hair and is having a generally fabulous time. Only when there's a break in the song does she realize that her pals are no longer dancing with her. It appears that even after weeks of practicing at the "Ranch", those stupid bitches forgot the routine! Isn't that like the funniest best story ever?!

*crickets*

Bitch Boy? If you like your penis you might wanna nod or something. Rachel's nostrils are flaring and I think she wants an answer. Eventually, Bitch Boy forcibly laughs and says, "Yeah that's funny, so what is it exactly you get paid to do?" Rachel replies...

Oh my god so there was this other time when like I was so drunk at work that I made myself go throw up just so I could drink some more! I mean, everyone does that once in a while, right? It's so not a big deal.

*crickets*

Hang on a sec, I gotta lift Bitch Boy's jaw up off the floor.

Brendon clears his throat and says, "Uh yeah. Guess so... So who are these 'clients' of yours?" Rachel replies...

Then there was this other time when I was totally like shmammied at this bar and I was doing tequila shots all night and like my friends were all like, "Why don't you like enter a bikini contest?" so I like think I did and then the next thing I know I'm like in some alley somewhere naked covered in vomit with a death grip on a wad of hundreds. Isn't that the best? I won!

*crickets*

Bitch Boy gulps and wipes his brow, "Uh yeah that's great." He then very gingerly grabs his own mic and begins to whisper into it. He says, "Um help? Please... someone, anyone listening, send help. She's scaring me and I think I have to go home to my mommy now. Her name's Conchita Villegas. Please. Hurry!"

So how long do you think these two will last once out of the house? Will the spirit of Marie help Conchita and Pepe get their wish? How many times will Rachel have to puke on Brendon in order for him to get the hint? Does Rachel really have any power in Vegas whatsoever? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

25 comments:

Hands down, awesome blog. XD And yes, we all must feel sorry for Brendon's family. They must be praying long and hard and considering an arranged marriage for their darling boy since the little baby can't find himself a real woman.

ROFLMAO!! Conchita and Pepe are in the process of relocating with no forwarding address... Conchita is crying as she while she is sacrificing Pepe prize rooster.. Pepe is drinking Mescal and yelling at Brendons high school pic.. "que Pendejo eres"...

I rush home from work every day to enjoy the day's posting. Thanks for the AWESOMENESS! I think Brendon should be voted out before Hyena FuckFace so she can see just how miserable she has made the other HG. She deserves it! A WEEK without Brendon... O... M... G!!! I have invested in a pot of glitter to throw into the air as I read your blog... certainly adds to the festive air! You have my vote for "Blog of the Year"!

LMAO! Thanks for a laugh during a somewhat shitastic day, Lala. You rock.

No way in hell these two are lasting more than 2 weeks after the show. Can you imagine Rachel living in his grad school apartment? Chick has no real skills, so they'd be broke. Her face would completely deflate due to lack of juvaderm and botox. She'd be a greasy unattractive mess. Brendon wants a down to earth girl who likes to stay in and cook dinner. Rachel ain't that girl. I momentarily felt bad for Rachel last week when he was berated her for her Vegas stories. As annoying as those stories are, that is who she is. Brendon's cajoling isn't going to change that fact. If he doesn't like it, he's with the wrong chick.

I really hope the brigade pulls off making Brenchel think Brendon is going home and then really voting out Rachel. The shock and awe from Brenchel would be fan-friggin-tastic. I hope they do it. The Rachel meltdown would make my day.

We all know that Brendon's mother cries to her rosary nightly. What I want to see are his friends. I wonder which one will take posession of his man card until such time as he is deserving of it. Which will be never or as a favor when they visit Vegas and Rachel's "coworkers" give them freebies...I mean, tours of the town.

I much prefer the notion of keeping Brendon. Rachel is, at least, a dangerous competitor. Brendon will have to do some work in my estimation to prove that he's a threat to anyone. But my guess is that when Rachel is evicted we'll have another video of a grown person crying for hours on end from the feeds.

I am laughing so hard at the mental image you paint of poor Conchita. Like you, I cannot wait until Thursday to see what she thinks about Hyena FF ... bahahahaha. Even funnier, your recap of the Hyena's Vegas stories to Brendon ... he is dumber than a rock!I'm with you about Rachel leaving this week ... She HAS to go!!! (Throwing glittery chicken bones into the air whislt stirring potion)What's the deal with the guys sitting around with their hand down their pants?!!! Matt and Enzo ... I'm surprised the Sheriff hasn't called them out on that nasty little habit. Other than that strange habit, I quite like Enzo.I could not stop laughing at the houseguests reactions when "Mr. Salvatore" appeared! Regan especially looked so frightened.Another great blog entry ... can't wait to read tomorrow's!!

Brook, I totally understand wanting her to stay to stir up trouble but I hate her SO much that I just want her gone. She is vile. I don't think the rest of the season will be boring without her, just less STDs being passed around. I could be wrong of course in which case you can tell us all "I told you bitches!"

I love your blog!!! I agree with brook where will the drama come from when Rachel leaves. I think it would be much better to leave her in the house, not nominate here, then have Matt use the Diamond Veto on her. hehehe That's my dream!!!

Brooke, I think there's drama to be had in that house, just you wait. Brendon's gonna be like a pissed off wet cat next week. And once Brittney and Ragan figure out they're on the outside looking in and I'll bet the mean girls twins get scrappy real quick. I think the others haven't had a chance to (figuratively thank God) show their behinds because Rachel's been so busy (literally) showing hers.

The word on the street is that big red has been practicing he espanol. Picture this: The front door swings open at the Villegas casa, olaaaaaa, heeeyyy me amo Vegas. Needledick slumps in holding 5 cases filled with wine, vodka, hair extensions and 3 vats of clearasil. Mama Villegas clutches her rosary and tells Brendon to go to his room. A blow dart parts the air and big red goes down faster than she usually does in the V.I.P. room at the Vegas brothel. The next day big red wakes up in a small Mexican village where she bores the shit out of the natives with stories of Vegas, the morning after pill and how to hold on to $100's after passing out in an alley. In other news illegal immigration is on the rise.ps. - Lala - Yo Adrian

did anyone else notice the herpes sore on brenden's lip on the show last night????...i'm arfraid, that is the least of his worries and the first of many ulcers for dear, sensitive, unknowing, pathetic, man-boy brenden!...btw, love u and ur blog :)

Okay, today's post was, by far, most fantastic. The images. Seriously. And Bitch Boy's parents are surely doing all they can to bring their baby back into the fold. They were hoping for him to meet a nice Sofia, live in a sweet adobe cottage, have many children (being fruitful and multiplying) and walking off into the sunset. Now, poor Conchita and Pepe are forced to worry that the fruit of their loins will produce Rosemary's Baby and they'll be doomed to a life with Satan.

Surely I read your comment wrong. You can't possibly mean that Britney is "seriously the WORST kind of female there is"? You meant Rachel, right? Because for all of Britney's faults, there's no way she's worse than Rachel.

Anyway I think Britney's all kinds of fabulous. She's playing a great game and she's funny as hell.

Creme Tangerine, LOL! Ok, they are BOTH pretty bad. Rachel is up front with her faults. I would respect Britney much more if she would just say that shit to Rachel's face. She does crack me up with the stuff she says, don't get me wrong, I just wish she would say it right to Rachels face.

Love the Trent Reznor "Perfect Drug" pic! Excellent addition! At least when I'm thinking of the worst thing I can possibly think of thinking of (Bitch Boy & Hyena Fuckface) I can pause for a sec and admire that. I knew there was a reason I liked you. :)